Slow Motion
by Tosa
Summary: Years before Johnny and Dally's story begins, another former greaser gets a chance to do things over... But history has a nasty way of repeating itself before all is right. Prequel & parallel to How Lucky We Are, but could stand-alone. ABANDONED
1. Chapter 1

**R**eincarnation, as someone once said, is a tricky business. Dallas Winston learned that the hard way without even realizing it, but luckily, he had a particularly happy ending - or, he will. He's still alive, and he's still with his first and only love. And Johnny is, too. Their ending will be happy after all, and it should be, having paid their allotted prices for it: Johnny, pure as the sunrise of a new day, lived a happy life most of the way through. Dallas, having started out a hoodlum, had to deal with a few hardships before he could claim the prize of starting over and a reconciliation.

But what of the others?

The company Darry worked for went bankrupt, but not before he began to develop feelings for the woman that served him soup and coffee every morning before work, at the diner downtown. He started to watch his manners around her and came and spent forty bucks a day on meals even after money began to run tight. And, sometime after the company collapsed and their relationship began to bud into mutuality, she offered him a place to stay. When he asked about rent, Cherry just smiled. "You'll see," she said.

Keith partnered up in his late twenties with a wanderer called Mark, who had blown into town while he was working part-time at an auto shop, on the verge of losing that job due to merchandise that had "disappeared" mysteriously during his shifts. Mark shared with him ideas to ludicrous and clever that Keith found himself beguiled enough to quit his job before he got the chance to be fired. He never did learn the wanderer's full name, but together, they opened a chain of fast-food joints called Two Bits: _one bite of Two Bit's, and your hunger will roar for more!_

Too bad for Sodapop, the dice had not only managed to miss his mark, but they fell off the table completely.

Was God failing him? Could karma possibly have made a mistake? Whatever the cause, there was no helping him.

Perhaps, though, his story did not stray to the wrong side of the tracks without a reason. Perhaps history repeated itself to point him in the right direction the second time around, to guide him to the oasis at the end of the desert.

Whatever the case, Soda's story began around seventeen years before Dally and Johnny's in Chigaintown, New Jersey.

Chigaintown, short for Michigantown, was and still is a pretty little place set by the river. The close proximity to what was known as Philadelphia caused many colonial as well as modern style buildings to pop up, coloring the little city with diversity. It was brimming with cafes and pawnshops alike, with patches of road made out of cobblestone and tiles. It was a dreamy sort of place, set apart from everything else and belonging in its own little world.

Beautiful, Sodapop had always thought. Amazing, perfect, almost; at its very essence, a sanctuary. He had grown up here, in the comfy little building known as St. Olivia's House for Outcast Children: an orphanage.

Albeit, he hadn't grown up in luxury, but he refused to see it as poverty; "cozy" and "simple", the nuns had called it, spooning the typical "chilled" (as apposed to just cold) pea soup into their outstretched bowls for the twentieth time that week. They couldn't afford any better, but their regret of this was enough to make the kids make themselves choke down the awful-tasting stuff. That regret was all they needed to do so; it was enough to know that someone cared.

Soda was a gorgeous kid with sincerely good intentions, but the assumption that these things would get him adopted sooner rather than later did little to help it actually happen. He had never minded in the least, though, not even when the family to eventually take him into their home didn't show up until he was fifteen, and wasn't a family at all, but a single person.

He could never truly understand Russel James's motives for taking him in. The man had been in his mid-twenties at the time, but looked to be thirty or at least a prominent smoker or an alcoholic (though he turned out to be neither). Upon asking about the nature of his adoption, Soda was met with a vague comment about impulse, which satisfied him enough, but not really.

Affectionately, he called his new guardian Russ.

Russ was about as close to a father as any of the nuns had been - which, as one can tell, wasn't much. But he did love Soda in his own strange (and innocent) way. His hearing was bad at times and he was colorblind and forgetful, so Soda often ended up as the caretaker instead of the other way around. However, once again, this didn't phase him because he was, as always, inflexibly optimistic.

A year after his wayward adoption, when he dropped out of school, Russ looked at him sadly and said, "Soda, you're making a terrible mistake," but then lapsed into one of his uncommunicative fits and protested no more. Soda shrugged off his warning; neither of them were all that book-smart to begin with, even if they were nice to look at. And whether because he had forgotten or he just didn't want to, Russ never mentioned the boy's choice to quit school again.

It was while struggling to find a job available to largely inexperienced teenaged drop-outs that Soda met Sandy.

He had been applying for a job in a local hardware store, trying to use his background helping out with Russ's handyman job to his advantage, when he noticed a young, pretty thing walking alone past the shop. Business was slow in this area this time of day, but through the depot's large windows he could see a pack of shady-looking guys meandering behind her, slinking about so as not to catch her notice.

Things like that just didn't happen in Chigaintown, yet Soda found himself apologizing to the kind man running his interview and ran out after them.

It took a minute at most, and even outnumbered he won easily; growing up poor can do that for you.

She was blonde at the time, with the nicest china-blue eyes. Her movements were dainty and delicate as she stepped over one of the fallen men and offered him her hand.

Sandy Cade, she said, her voice full of gratitude, and it was a pleasure.

He smiled bashfully. "Sodapop James." He had taken Russ's surname for legality and lack of ever having one.

From the moment he took her milky white, smooth hand in his, it seemed to fit perfectly, and he knew at that precise moment that Sandy was the one. The way she imitated his shy smile and glanced to the side showed she liked him fine, too.

Best yet, she never said anything about his name.

* * *

Wow - I've been dreaming of SlowMo's release since just a little into HLWA(_How Lucky We Are_)'s beginning! Speaking of abbreviations, at least in my documents, I abbreviate _all_ of my stories' names. _Gang bangs and Cucumbers_ is Gb+C, and _The Pursuit of an Artist_ is, naturally, TPoaA. However, for _Slow Motion_, I have decided on the abbreviation SlowMo, as there's something quite wrong about calling such a serious little story SM for short...

This chapter was pretty small, but then, so was HLWA's opening chapter. **R&R? Be gentle, please. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

I had planned to submit this sooner, but the lack of feedback and surplus of work (gee, thanks, AP History) had me doing otherwise.

* * *

**SIXTEEN YEARS LATER****T**he problem with this place was, with the close proximity to a river and the cafes filled with bright-eyed college students, it reminded him too much of his hometown. Lighting a cigarette and gazing out on the sparkling body of water, Soda noted with some exasperation at himself that the whole reason he'd moved all the way to Massachusetts was to _forget_ his life in Chigaintown. Scowling, he took a drag; he used to only smoke when he was stressed, but since that was all the time now, his nervous habit had evolved into a full-blown addiction.

Unwilling to unpack the boxes that had been sitting there for half a year now, half-open and spilling over with their contents, the divorcee decided that what he needed was a walk. Once away from the sight of his life hidden in boxes and the uncannily familiar view, he would be able to walk through town, spotting differences that would allow him to separate this place in his mind from Chigaintown.

Once outside, he found his prediction to be right, and slowly his nostalgia began to seep away. This town was more of a stylized city in comparison to cozy, authentic Chigain; the hustle and bustle of people working in the ports made it evident as part of the local economy's backbone. College students and travelers alike made up most of the crowd, passing through town on their way to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the town of Cambridge nearby. Inhaling deeply, Soda found himself enjoying the stark, musky contrast of the badly smelling ports that connected to the Charles River as opposed to the scentlessness of the one back home in Chigaintown. To him, the smell of pollution and industry was a comfort, since Sandy hated those things; she had always smelled of freshly scented soaps and ecofriendliness.

However, at the sight of a grown man hoisting a giddy little boy onto his shoulders, Soda's pleasantly cynical mood was broken, and he was filled with a deep ache.

Fatherhood, commitment, and a "family", however skeptical of its function you may be, would do that to you.

-

It wasn't that Steve was unhappy. How could he be, when he'd just gotten into the prestigious MIT? The place where his parents met, where he'd been preparing to go to since kindergarten, when his mother had introduced him to the regimented schedule which would consume the rest of his life?

Well, maybe that was it; maybe he felt empty. All that planning, and now here he was. Disinterested in everything it had to offer. Now what? Sighing, Steve felt that perhaps the reason why he supposedly didn't feel unhappy was for his mother's sake.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the entrance of his roommate. Seeing him struggling with the weight of his parcels, Steve got up to help him move the items to Robert's bed.

Upon setting them down, his roomie sighed with relief. "Oh, Randle, what would I do without you?"

Steve smirked. "Gee, Bob. I imagine your flimsy little arms would give out."

This was sarcasm, as his companion, while not at all stocky, was certainly not in the least bit as dainty as he behaved. Still, he scowled at Steve in response.

Steve's eyes wandered to Bob's shopping bags. "What do you have in there, anyways?"

"Textbooks," he replied in a clipped tone. "Tons. And tons. And _tons_ of textbooks. These classes are so ridiculous with their requirements - you'd think they'd have all these books available online now, but _nooo_..."

Steve laughed at his friend's highly irritated expression. "Yeah, because God forbid you not only having to spend money on_ books_, but to carry them around, one at a time, through your schedule that consists of hours of free time..."

Robert sighed, flopping down on his bed beside his luggage and shopping bags. "You're probably right about me having time to get them between _some_ classes, but it's just too much work to come _all_ the way to our apartment for my books and then _all_ the way back across the river to the Institute..."

He sat up on his elbows, eyeing Steve. "By the way, good job, finding decent housing. Mind showing me around? We have separate rooms, right?"

"You think I'd settle in with a fag for a roomie and not get us separate bedrooms? Hell, yeah, we do."

Bob (ignoring the 'fag' comment) groaned. "God, the rent must awful. Just look how clean this place is! I'm going to have to work an extra shift - and so are _you_..."

"That was me," Steve confided. "I came down this weekend and cleaned this wreck up. I had nothing else to do, really..."

"No friends to call?"

Steve sighed as though to say, _You know how it is._ Bob heeded this and changed the subject.

"Well, it looks good - you did a fine job. But this place is still just so _not_ scummy... I mean, look at that view!" he gushed, gesturing wildly towards a window. "Come on, you can't tell me even fair rent wouldn't be ridiculous..."

"This isn't New York, Bob."

Steve had met Bob online a couple summers before his freshman year on a forum dedicated to advice for those planning on and actually going to MIT. The fact that he was gay didn't really bother Steve; upon meeting him, Bob had made it apparent that he wasn't the sort to hit on every guy he saw, even just as a tease. And while Steve was good-looking, he was so not Bob's type. From that moment on, the two became close.

Now, they were about to start their second year at MIT while living in their first off-campus housing.

"If the front room is this gorgeous, then the rest of the apartment must be..." Bob rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Alright, give me the grand tour."

Steve hesitated a moment before grinning sheepishly. "Actually, this is your room. And through here..."

Steve led him through the only other two other rooms in the apartment - his own room and the kitchen-slash-bathroom-slash-living room.

For a long time, Bob was quiet. And then; "Steve."

"Yes, Robert?"

"There's a shower right next to the stove."

"Yes there is, Robert."

"And the toilet is right beside the television set."

"So it is."

After a few more grueling seconds of silence, Bob's began to speak again.

"You said this wasn't New York," Bob huffed, "but this feels exactly like home!" Despite himself, he began to smile.

-

They met on the stairs.

Steve was calling over his shoulder to Robert, but his plans to survey the city and perhaps stop by a bookstore were lost to his already dozing roommate. He knew this, and yet he announced it anyway, and had he not, the other man would have moved right past him and perhaps ignored any friendly calls of greeting that may have been issued.

But as it was, Steve was not looking where he was going, and so when the other tried to move around him, the narrowness of the stairwell prevented him. Steve turned to face forward just as he and Soda collided.

"Watch it." It was more of a growl than a statement, and this intrigued Steve enough to make him look at the man not with offense, but curiosity.

"Hey," Steve said. "I don't know you."

Soda snorted, "Obviously not," and tried to move around him, but Steve kept one arm stretched, a hand clamped on the railing, barring his escape.

"I'm Steve," He said this out of courtesy, despite the frostiness, because he had not been raised in a barn, and his mother had done her job well. "Steve Randle."

They were complete strangers, and yet Steve did not doubt for a second that the look on the other man's face was one of utter loathing. The younger man didn't take offense, however, because it wasn't, couldn't be a personal hatred; it was just the sort that developed over time, until it festered into cynicism.

The younger man set his jaw playfully. "I'm not letting you pass unless I get a name."

-

Soda could tell this Steve kid was young; not just from his baby-face or in the literal sense of the word, mind you. But the way he challenged the older man, a complete stranger, without fear of outcome could be described as nothing but naivety. But naive was something that Soda was _not._ He would stare this kid down until he broke.

Steve was undeniably a student of MIT; Soda, or anyone, really, could tell this just by a single glance. The boy's hair was dark, almost jet black, and gelled into intricate waves and swirls. His eyes were dead serious; he truly wanted to make friends. All of this and his voice, soft but firm, reminded Soda so deeply of Johnny that he nearly started, but instead hid his surprise through a guise of suspicion. He stared harder. This kid would break. He _had_ to.

Yet the longer he looked, the more he saw Johnny, and being reminded of the son who had been taken from him (of whom he was guilty of neglecting) made him not want to look any longer. Lowering his eyes to this Steve kid's outstretched hand (but not taking it), he muttered his introduction. "James."

Just the single name seemed to satisfy him, and, beaming, Steve asked, "And is there a surname, or any particular nickname you'd like to be called...?"

Soda scowled at him. "James _is_ the surname. And you'll address me as _Mr._ James because we are not friends." No way he was telling this cocky brat his first name; he wasn't in the mood to be made fun of by some hotshot punk.

Steve lowered his hand, and his friendly grin twisted into a crooked smile of amusement. "Are you always this grumpy?"

Even as he shoved past and stomped up the stairs, Soda could hear the boy's laughter loud and clear, somehow sounding less mocking and more carefree than anything.

He'd only just met him, and already he was looking forward to this Randle kid's graduation and departure from Newtown. It had been three years, and yet it still felt as though the brat was invading his safe haven before he had had a chance to enjoy it.

* * *

It seems their roles have been reversed, eh?

This story won't be very long, and I'll be sure to get to the point soon. At least, I hope so.


	3. AN, Chapter 3, and Plot Overview

Dear Readers:

I am quitting _Slow Motion_. I am terribly sorry, but I just don't have the time or the motivation. I want so badly to move on to other projects. I really wish I'd finished this story way back when _How Lucky We Are _was still fresh and I was still madly in love and newly introduced to _The Outsiders_. (It's still a dear favorite, but we're more of an old married couple now. We're less excited about our love and more resigned.)

I remember the plotting stages of this fic. How it was going to be my best yet. The subtle emotions, the overlaps with _How Lucky We Are_. I'm sad to see it go, but I just can't get myself to see the story as clearly in my head anymore.

But **I don't want to leave loose ends**, so I'm giving you what measley bits I've written of chapter three plus a plot overview, both of which you'll find after this author's note.

I'm not done writing. I'm just done writing _this_. :(

My sincerest apologies,

_Tosa_

_

* * *

_

**I**t didn't stop there. Nearly every time he saw him, Mr. James (aka The Man Who Refused to Reveal His First Name) either ignored Soda completely or gave him a death stare, the likes of which was powerful enough to make Steve physically shiver. Still, despite his neighbor's frosty conduct, he tried his best to appear friendly.

"I don't think the Killing with Kindness™ is going to work on that one, Stevie," Robert drawled, looking after their new neighbor's retreating back with distaste.

"Of course it will!" Steve replied, undeterred. "Everybody's got a little good in them, even if it has to be _forced_ out!"

Not liking the emphasis on that "forced", Robert shook his head. Returning to his descent down the side stairwell, he called over his shoulder, "Jeez - once you make up your mind, you sure do stick to it. I only hope you know what you're doing."

For the next several days, the main topic in the friends' apartment made the change from preparations for first semester to, "Did you see Mr. James today? I think I'm finally making an impression!" and, "Y'know, he may've _looked_ mad, but I swear he smiled a little!"

Bob scowled. "Oh. Of course. I finally come out to people other than you and _you're_ the one who finds a guy."

Shocked out of his current tangent, Steve yelled defiantly, "I am _not_ in _love_ with him!"

Robert's lips twitched involuntarily. "I didn't say that."

"Not in so many words," Steve shot. Muttering, miserable, he returned to unpacking grocery bags without mentioning their elusive neighbor again. (Or at least, for the duration of unpacking.)

The next day, Steve was back to the same old same old. "You wanna' know what I think?"

Robert didn't have to ask about what. "No," he answered. "But I know you'll tell me anyway."

The dreamy look on Steve's face nearly made him gag. "I think Mr. James just needs a friend."

Robert snorted. "He needs to get some manners, is what I think."

Steve let out a strangled gasp. "Robert! How do you know he isn't victim to some tragic circumstances?! I mean, he's always alone! Maybe his stepfather abused him as a child, or his wife died and now he can't bare to connect with another human being at the risk of being left alone again!"

"Or maybe," his friend replied, slowly, "he's always alone because _he's a douche_."

As always when Bob dared insult the Supreme and Wonderful Mr. James, Steven refused to speak to him for about an hour, or whenever it was that Steve was unable to keep his musings on Mr. James to himself for any longer. In the midst of another lecture of Why Mr. James is a Tragic Soul, Robert thought to himself that maybe he wasn't the only one that needed to get laid.

* * *

**Plot Overview**

Steve shows up to go with his friend Smokey (who is extremely homophobic and tries to persuade Steve to stop sharing a room with Bob) to their afternoon classes. Smokey is working at his part-time job in a mechanic shop, calls back to his boss to tell him that's he's leaving and, oh my, it seems his boss is Mr. James! Unfortunately for Steve (but not at all surprising), he treats him coldly and accuses Steve of stalking him. Steve, hurt, leaves the store, Smokey running after him to catch up.

Steve doesn't give up. Eventually, he manages to crack Soda's hard shell when Steve confesses a love for cars and mechanics. Interest piqued (although trying to hide it), Soda asks why Steve would want to go to MIT then. Steve tells him how his father died when he was very young, and because his mother and father met at MIT, preparing Steve to go to the same place was her way of grasping at Steve's only chance to be close to the father he never got to have. Steve then admits to never having a friend before, and thanks Soda for being nice to him, if only once.

Edges softened, Soda allows his relationship with Steve to develop quickly, even telling Steve his first name. Bob continues to badger Steve about his relationship with Soda, and manages - to his own surprise - to get out of him that Steve has mentioned his roommate and his sexual orientation, and that Soda was curious on the matter. Steve insists that it was only curiosity on Soda's part, and it wasn't like he was making a pass at him or anything. Bob replies, "Of _course_ he was making a pass at you." To Steve's mortification, Bob gives him tips on gay relationships and sex.

It helps, however, because soon after Soda and Steve make love for the first time. Afterwards in bed, Steve is amused to see Soda smoking, "just like in the movies." Soda grumpily replies that it wasn't meant to be romantic and, as an addict, he'd be smoking anyway.

Soda opens up about his life to Steve...

...and there is a flashback to the discovery of Sandy's pregnancy and a hint that she was raped, perhaps by her stepfather (though she doesn't specify this to Soda). Soda says that since the baby isn't his, she owes him by letting her name the kid. Shocked, she agrees, and when the baby is born, Soda decides on the generic name of Johnny so that his son won't have to go through the ridicule he had as a kid.

The flashback skips ahead to Sandy leaving Soda. Because of Johnny's darker coloration, Sandy has died her blonde hair black, citing that people won't have an excuse to inquire after Johnny's biological father if she at least looks a little like him. Hurt by that comment, Soda tries to argue that Johnny has his eyes; even if they aren't the right color, they look similar, and the expressions are the same. Stone faced, Sandy replies curtly that expressions can be learned, and she leaves without another word.

Back in the present, the two protagonists are in love, with Steve spending most of his time in Soda's apartment. One day, Soda is out and the phone rings. Without thinking, Steve picks it up, and on the other end is Johnny. He asks after his father. Steve tells him he isn't home. Johnny then asks who Steve is, and as he stumbles for an answer, Soda comes back. Relieved, Steve hands the phone over and waits in the kitchen, pretending to busy himself. When Soda comes back, Steve asks about the conversation, and is mad to learn that Soda has turned Johnny down about coming to visit. Soda is bewildered by Steve's angry reaction, and then feels like an idiot when Steve explains that he is disappointed because he himself never got to spend time with his father, and thinks it idiotic of Soda to break the promise he made with Johnny. Sheepishly, Soda explains how hard it would be to leave his job and Steve and fly across the country to see his son right now; perhaps when he has off days. Cooling off (but still inwardly bitter), Steve asks if Soda answered Johnny's question about who Steve is. "I told him we're roommates," Soda says, and though it is a smart choice, Steve still feels oddly vexed.

With this sour note still fizzling in the back of his mind, Steve ponders Soda's actions. He is surprised to realize that, for all the negative things he can draw up about Soda, he is unable to stay mad at Soda. Rejuvenated by his epiphany, Steve tells Soda that he loves him for the first time. However, this is not well received; caught off guard, Soda is unsure how to react. More importantly, he doesn't say it back. Steve, although a little hurt, writes it off as Soda needing time. Meanwhile, Soda begins to twist his relationship with Steve around in his head and grows scared of the prospect of their becoming more. Feeling stifled, Soda tells Steve that Johnny needs him and leaves without even telling his employees and other acquaintances for a cross country road trip.

Steve is devastated by Soda's leaving. He moves back into the apartment with Bob and recedes into himself, convinced after about a week's absence that Soda has left him for good.

At the same time, Soda arrives in Autumn, Washington, although now that he is there, he has no idea what his intentions were. He rents out a place and spends little time in it, instead pacing the town and hoping to accidentally run into Johnny or Sandy. He is too ashamed of his running away from Steve to contact them directly.

One of his first days there, Soda checks out the church, feeling oddly sentimental. He reminisces about a time when he believed in God, back when he was in love with Sandy, and as he does so, catches sight of a boy who rushes out of the confessional, hesitates, and then sits down a few pews over. Soda is intrigued by his uncomfortable squirming, almost as though it physically pains him to be there. When the service ends, he bolts, and Soda goes after him to halt him. Realizing the strangeness of his actions, he tries his best to appear friendly and asks the boy for a cigarette. Soda discovers he actually could use a smoke, and he ends up asking gruffly.

"Rarely liked to smoke when I was your age," Soda says in way of filling the silence. The boy has him thinking about himself. "Only ever did when I was stressed or something."

The boy looks at him and guesses, "So now that you're an adult, you're anxious all the time?"

Soda pauses. Smiling bitterly and not really looking at the boy, he replies, "I've made a lot of mistakes." They part ways.

The next day, Steve is in Soda's apartment, looking sadly at its emptiness, when the phone rings. After several minutes of debating, Steve picks up. It is Sandy on the other line, and she inquires on where Soda is after introducing herself. Alone with the tension caused by conversing with his lover's ex-wife, Steve suggests calling Soda's cell, and is surprised to learn that Sandy doesn't have it. He gives it to her and then hangs up, once again deeply confused about the swell of emotions welling up inside him.

Soda is thinking about the boy he met and thinks about returning home to Steve when he receives a call from Sandy. Johnny has been injured in a fire. Frantic, Soda asks where he is, and Sandy soothes his nerves with a curt comment that Johnny wants to see him, and his friend, Dallas, will pick Soda up whenever he gets in. Sheepishly, Soda admits to having been in Autumn for a while. There are a few moments of silence on the other line before Sandy tells him whatever, just meet Dally at...

...and this chapter, the final chapter, opens paralleling that infamous scene on the bridge, where Dallas met with Johnny's father, Soda, for a second time. Dallas laughs at the coincidence. Soda is a little surprised to see that the dumb kid he bummed cigarettes off is associated with his son, but senses by Dally's body language that he truly cares about Johnny.

A comment Dallas makes gives Soda momentary panic, until Dally reassures him that Mrs. Cade is not really a Mrs; she's still single. The two make small talk and before long, Dally has Soda talking about his past with Sandy. As he speaks, Soda finds himself thinking increasingly of Johnny, and how he needs to get to Johnny, not be talking to this kid. Dally breaks the unpleasant conversation asking about Soda's first name, and, thinking, "What the heck," he tells Dally his real first name. Dally laughs a little, but mostly receives it open-mindedly, and Soda immediately thinks of Steve's similar first reaction to his name.

Upon seeing her in the hospital, tired, stressed, and beautiful even with age, Soda realizes with great relief that he isn't in love with Sandy anymore. He he talks to her indifferently, mind in a whirr of thought about Steve and, of course, his son. Sandy gets him to stay behind while Dally visits Johnny, and she asks Soda why he came. Soda, feeling honest (but not _too_ honest), confesses to having a lover and having gotten scared. Sandy does not pry, instead smiling bitterly and saying, "See how easy it is? To get scared?"

The next day, Steve is in turmoil over whether to give up on Soda or not. He contemplates leaving MIT to pursue what he loves, and then thinks of his mother, struggling to raise him on her own, and thinks that maybe he'll stick it out a little while longer. It is eight in the morning when he gets an call from the long missing Soda. Steve receives him stonily, trying not to betray his emotions. Soda says that that morning, Johnny woke up from a coma, which throws Steve for a loop. Soda promises to explain everything later and tells Steve that he has something more important to say first.

And for the first time, Soda tells Steve that he loves him. The three word sentence morphs into a full-blown confession, and, overwhelmed, Steve tells Soda to tell him everything when he is safely home. Soda promises, and Steve hangs up, a smile plastered on his face. Robert asks him why he is grinning like an idiot, and Steve laughs, heart suddenly a thousand times lighter.


End file.
